For The Days I Need Some Quiet

When I stand outside on the heat of asphalt, it tells me life here is hard.

I need to soak up nature, and breathe.

I need to walk among the trees.

I must learn to see beyond what eyes see. Find stars that aren’t meant for the sky.

I must tune my ear to the song of the fern, that I might hear new whispers of life.

I know better by now, that the greatest light comes in whispers, in tiny things, in those almost-invisible stirrings the hurried will always miss.

I know that quiet means slow. Quiet means small. Quiet means paying attention to intuition when my tired brain is being a loudmouth.

Quiet says “you’re going to be okay.” She smells like lilies, growing in the field. She feels like a sunny summer morning breeze. She echoes the song of “you will find rest for your soul.”

It’s an invitation to wholeness. It says all those broken pieces of my life-stretched heart can be fuzed together again. As long as I let love win. As long as I let life be beautiful. As long as I say yes to listening.